Cross Over
by fairytalehearts
Summary: My take on what happens after the promo for 4x09  SPOILER SPECULATION
1. The Other Olivia

Disclaimer: I do not own Fringe and make no profit from this work of fiction.  
>Spoilers: I wrote this after watching the promo for 4.09. This is my take.<p>

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><p><em>She has to get him.<em>

_The truck passes through the portal device and she slams into a water tower. The last thing she remembers is herself pulling her out of the rubble._

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><p>Jerking awake she's in the lab, but not. Things are much messier, for starters, and Walter's room is an office: two desks shoved together near the back. The bookcases were full, science journals, entertwined with her profiling books. She kept those at the FBI office because she knew Walter start self-dosing anytime he saw a profile that hit too close to home. They also weren't in alphabetical order but by case which was a stupid idea that must have been Peter's. Her favorite coffee mug was on the one side and she could see someone else's right next to it. Someone had placed her on the couch and she was pretty sure her right arm was broken.<p>

"Walter? Astrid?"

Astrid popped her head around the corner and she looked relieved, "Walter checked your hair for red dye and we sealed the breach. Olivia, my Olivia said we couldn't take you back to headquarters because she didn't think that Broyles would like a third Olivia on his hands."

"Thanks. Is Olivia around? I need to talk to her about Peter."

Astrid's eyes start to water, and sniffles, "Peter disappeared when we turned on the machine. She's distraught, we told her there was a tear and that was the only thing that got her out of bed."

To be honest she's not paying attention. When you had a photographic memory you tended to memorize new surroundings rather quickly. The desk clock next to the makeshift mass spectrometer said it was noon. Walter could not be seen/heard/smelled so that must mean he was out at lunch. Walter was out of the lab. Maybe the Deli off 3rd. Maybe he hated the place. Astrid was on babysitting duty and if her half-eaten salad was any indication she was worried. There was no sign of Lincoln anywhere- not his area, not his extra pair of glasses. She and Peter have a life together, they share an office. There's a picture of the two of them on the wall, laughing at something and she looks at him the way he looks at _her_.

"My Walter never leaves the lab." The chuckle is dry but she decides she likes the office more like this, "He has an old TV and a sleeper sofa and I have to stop and get him red vines before I come in otherwise he pouts at me for hours. And I cave because he's stuck here. I didn't ask for this you know, my life was manageable until Peter showed up."

"So was mine," Astrid smiles knowingly. Something tells her that this Astrid was very similiar to her own, "I'd tell you to rest but I don't think you'd listen."

"I need to talk to Olivia."

Her Black SUV is not in the parking lot, so they take Astrid's. Not that she could drive here anyway, apparently. The car ride is in the wrong direction and much too short of a trip. The Bishop House in her universe was tattered and abandoned, weeds growing out front. This house had been freshly painted, had new windows and looked much more homey. They would probably plant tulips in the spring, a bright set of reds that complement the house.

Astrid senses her apprehension,"She's been staying at the Bishop House. After she was put on leave of absence she started cleaning."

Olivia decided not to ask about the leave. There is no way she'd ever take a leave willingly, let alone at Broyles insistence.

The house is immaculate, new flooring, new paint, new furniture. Not one speck of dust, there was a new kitchen countertop and fixtures. Astrid motions towards the stairs and the two of them ascend towards the master bedroom. The hallway was lined with pictures, her as a girl, Ella, Rachel, a little boy that must be Peter. For some reason it struck her as odd, her alternate self living in this house.

With Peter.

And Walter.

He was mildly-annoying at best, so casual about everything, so unaffected. And Walter being Walter at all hours of the night would probably drive a normal person insane. The two of them together would be a handful and the two of them would probably make it work. Who knew? They probably had three kids in the master plan. They were in love. The sentimental part of her was happy for them. Rooting for them, even. But the realist in her knew that the last person she loved had betrayed them and there was no way she could trust someone like that again.

Olivia knocks on the door, three quick raps before entering. She was not expecting the warm colors or antique lamps. It was out of a magazine; the wallpaper was expensive and matched the carpet, the bedspread matching the lamps. It was like fall exploded in the room and it was beautiful, the sun really made the room look amazing. And there was her other self, curled into a ball asleep in the middle of the bed. In the middle of the day.

Before she even approaches the bed, Olivia bolts awake screaming. It was an interesting perspective of events, the screams sounded foreign, the heaping sobs definitely did not. Whatever scared her was in her dreams, her intrusion practically going unnoticed. The cries stop almost immediately upon their eyes meeting and she exhales the rest of her shaking away.

"I knew someone would come."

Olivia's mouth isn't moving but somehow she knows her alternate is speaking to her. She also realizes her other self must be crazy because she'd seen hours of her self being recorded; interviews, and at trial. She had a certain composure that her own alternate shared and this woman was not her. Messy hair aside, she looked defeated. This was an awkward situation but she needed the other woman's help to get home. Comforting, unfortunately, was not one of her strong suits.

Their 'conversation' is short, she does her best to assure her that Peter is alright and that David Robert Jones needed to be stopped. Olivia doesn't seem surprised at the news and calmly dismisses her before curling back into her ball. She had the distinct feeling that Olivia slept in the middle of her bed to avoid rolling over and realizing Peter would be missing. Her heart breaks a little at that, but then she also gets the feeling to take her badge and car keys from the drawer in the kitchen.

As she was leaving, Olivia noticed an IV bag shoved in the garbage with a little label reading 'Cortexiphan', along with several needles. She wasn't sure what that was but it was probably dangerous.

_ She makes a mental note to not return._


	2. Our Olivia

See Disclaimer in Part One

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><p>The first few weeks were horrible. The Crying. The Anger. There was no trace of him in either universe and she'd given up hope. Every lead was useless, every little thing she could find out about the machine was unhelpful. She knew what type of metal it was made of, it's power source, she could probably take the damn thing apart but she had no way to bring Peter back. She even went to the other universe for answers, but they were all playing dumb on how they powered their machine on.<p>

He must have just disappeared into the void between universes. Walter had a theory that he was here but they couldn't see him, so she practically killed herself injecting as much Cortexiphan as her body could stand to see him. Trying to crossover to wherever he was wasn't working, she saw one glimpse of him in a grocery store and he was close enough to touch but she snaps back into her reality, heartbroken.

Her body shuts down and she goes into a coma. Walter does every scan imaginable and she probably has brain damage but for a second she saw him. That was enough. If he was alive he would come home. The worrying could stop. The not-knowing could stop. She uses her Cortexiphan-addled brain to focus, reflect. She's so far gone she doesn't even object when Broyles benches her from her own department.

At night she dreams. Hundreds of hundreds of images played out in her mind, some with Peter some not, but the ones with Peter felt more real than the dismal life she'd been living. They'd be at a park or eating breakfast and she missed her boyfriend and missed being normal. Being alone wasn't helping either but the funny thing about walking past a car accident is that you don't know how it happened until it was too late.

Olivia spends fourteen hours a day sleeping. Astrid had long ago stopped trying to get her to come back to the office, her knocks went unanswered. Calls blocked. She was no good to the two of them like this. She spends the other ten hours a day online shopping and restoring their house to pristine condition for when Peter comes back. He would come back because that was what they did. They came back. If she wasn't keeping herself busy she'd go crazy and she'd long given up on trying to read Walter's essays that were littered around her house. So she shops and cleans because he was coming back. He was.

She lets the other Olivia slink into her life.

The first thing the girl does is dredge Reiden Lake for Walter's portal device. It's the middle of winter in Massachusetts but it gets done and she's equal parts impressed and proud. It took 27 hours of drilling and dredging, let alone all the legal wormholes, but the device is there and in little rusty bits. It takes Brandon four days to put it build new components with Walter's help. He moved into his Massive Dynamic-funded apartment in New York. The two of them could barely look at each other, the constant reminder of what they'd lost.

If she couldn't cross over, then they would figure out a new way to get Peter back home. A fresh pair of eyes was nice, even if they were technically hers. This girl had a life very similar to her own. _Minus Peter_. Ella, Rachel, yet somehow they were both the untrusting blondes stalked by their past, unwilling to look towards the future. Olivia doesn't even look her in the eyes during their second conversation. Armed with her favorite Indian food, she talks to her like she was any other victim. She talks about the machine and leaves (her phone had been smashed weeks ago and she had no real need for a new one). Walter's working furiously on getting it fixed and it was nice to not be overworked for once. She could get updates and eat Walter's waffles at 10 PM and not be exhausted worrying.

She'd spent so much time being afraid and sad- no wonder her dosing of Cortexiphan wasn't working. On a whim she tried to cross over a few days ago, Peter's mother owned the Bishop house over there and maybe seeing her would bring some comfort. It didn't work. Happiness was a new emotion- something different in the equation. For the first time in a long time she had hope. That hope would change everything because he was coming back and they did have a plan. Her head starts to hurt and she's not even sure why. But then she remembers.

Feeling the world slip away from her, she readjusted herself, knocking over a whiteboard in the process. Her beautiful house was dusty and smelled like metal but Peter was working so furiously that he didn't even notice her. She makes a mental note to buy the other Olivia a muffin basket. They were launching a similar plan to get their Olivia back, with Peter's help.

Her other-other alternate and Lincoln were asleep on the couch (that was certainly interesting), while he paced back and forth.

"Peter?"

She's dressed in his MIT shirt and her underwear and it's been four months since she'd seen him last. She expected to look nicer, her hair all sorts of crazy and she's sure she'd spilled coffee on his favorite t-shirt. Her brain is so fuzzy all she can do is hold on to him while he kisses her cheeks. The lonliness that had slowly crept into her skin was quickly fading and it was amazing just to look at him, to breathe the same air.

The two of them cross back over and it hurts. Her whole body feels like she'd gone through a windshield again and she feels dizzy and horrible. They hit the coffee table so hard she's surprised it didn't break.

"You cleaned up the house."

They're still on the coffee table, he hovering over her and still looking around.

"I did."

It'd been so long since she'd had an actual conversation that words just start spilling out of her mouth. She'd broken her lease so she was living with them, Walter was living in New York but they would go get him back. His mother had been granted permission to visit and the bathroom upstairs was the same color of his eyes and she was going to take off his t-shirt so it would smell like him again-

"This will do."

"What?"

"Nothing."

_On the other hand, sometimes it was easier being the hero than the victim._


End file.
